


Scire

by Wagnetic



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Protectiveness of a kind, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 14:59:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wagnetic/pseuds/Wagnetic
Summary: Marcus makes a habit of disobeying the Seal People and getting himself hurt. Esca doesn't like it.





	Scire

**Author's Note:**

> I think I'm being a little unfair to the Seal People here, but it's all for the sake of Marcus whump. And I decided to go for a title in Latin because honestly, why not?

Marcus has become accustomed to not understanding the voices around him. It would be convenient if he could talk to the slaves— he will not think of them as the _other_ slaves—so he could learn more about the Seal People, but it is only a passing thought. There’s no use in wishing, and he doubts they would have anything helpful to say. His one real regret is that he cannot thank the old woman who has showed him such care since he came to the village.

Rather, it is his one regret until one day a group of hunters return in a sea of raucous laughter and everything changes. One moment, Marcus is currying a horse, and the next he is being tugged away with such sudden force that the beast jerks in fright. Marcus braces for the blow he knows will come from whichever warrior has grabbed him, though he doesn’t understand what he could have done to cause offence already. He has not even tried to fight back today. When no one strikes him, he turns to see that the man grasping his arm with such bruising strength is Esca.

After all the time Marcus has spent in the Seal People’s village, which seems an eternity, there is not much that surprises him anymore. This does, however, because Esca has not touched him in weeks. Esca rarely even glances at him now. Marcus has spent many nights, too exhausted to sleep, wondering if it is because Esca is ashamed to have trapped Marcus here or because he simply doesn’t care. As of yet, Marcus has found no answer.

But now, he thinks he might find one. Esca doesn’t meet Marcus’s eyes, but his grip doesn’t waver either. Esca pulls Marcus past the group of laughing hunters and towards one of the few tree-shaded areas just outside the borders of the camp, silent all the while. When Marcus catches a glimpse of Esca’s face, he sees a smile, but he knows Esca’s posture well enough to tell that he isn’t truly at ease.

At last they stop, and there is a strange stillness while Marcus waits for Esca to say something, or at least to turn and face him. Esca cannot expect Marcus to begin the conversation when he doesn’t even know why he’s here. When Esca does meet Marcus’s eyes, Marcus finds he cannot breathe. Surely Esca’s eyes were not always so hard. Surely the line of his mouth was not always so fierce.

Esca breaks the stillness, grabbing Marcus’s hair, pulling his head down, and kissing him. It is not a tender thing, like the kiss a man might give his lover. It is harsh, and sharp, and angry. Esca kisses like it is an insult, and Marcus finds that he loves it. It’s not the kind of kiss he’d once idly dreamed of sharing with Esca, languid and speaking of devotion, but it is good. It is very good. Marcus tries to wrap his arms about Esca, but Esca shakes him off.

“No,” he says, and Marcus revels in the sound of his voice. It has been so long since he has heard it clearly. He’s heard it from a distance when Esca has spoken to some warrior or another, but it has always been far enough that he’s had to focus all his energy on listening. He’s earned himself many blows for ceasing his duties in order to search for Esca’s voice.

“No?” Marcus asks. His brain is addled from the heat of the kiss and his voice comes out hazy and slow.

“You get only what I choose to give.” Esca jerks the hand still in Marcus’s hair, making him gasp, and whispers, “We are likely being watched.”

“Did they put you up to this?” Marcus asks. “They’re watching to see if you can break me this way?” _Maybe you could_ , he thinks, but he still has enough control to hold the words back.

Esca doesn’t give him an answer and just kisses him again. He bites down hard on Marcus’s lip and Marcus is utterly lost. “You like this,” Esca says. “I didn’t think you…” Esca’s tone is indecipherable but Marcus cannot bring himself to care overmuch. He reaches for the hand that rests at Esca’s side, but Esca pushes his hand away roughly. “Only what I choose to give,” Esca repeats. “Count yourself lucky that I show you my favor at all.”

 “I do,” Marcus says.

“Good. Maybe you _are_ capable of learning, then.”

“Esca?”

“You have taken my loyalty for granted in the past,” Esca says. “I’m glad you’ve figured out I owe you nothing.”

“You gave me your dagger,” Marcus says. “You said you where honor-bound to serve me.”

“What was it your uncle said? Ah, yes. I said what I said and did what I did because I had to. He warned you that things would change beyond the wall, but you were too proud to listen. See where your pride has gotten you, slave?”

Marcus shudders at the words, and it is not only in anger or revulsion. There is nothing Marcus likes about living as a slave. Not the menial tasks, not the cruelty, certainly not the dishonor… and yet there is something about hearing the word on Esca’s tongue that heats Marcus’s blood. Marcus wonders how it would feel to call Esca “Domine.”

“What do you want?” he asks. Esca glares.

“Is that a challenge?”

“No,” Marcus says, quickly. “I only meant, what is it that you desire from me?”

“Your obedience,” Esca says. His voice is clipped in apparent annoyance and it should not make Marcus want, but, oh, it does.

“You have it. You need only tell me what you wish me to do. I will do it, I swear.”

“Do not displease the men here. Do you think I haven’t seen your injuries?” Marcus tries to look away, but Esca does not let him turn his head. “Answer me.”

“I wasn’t sure. If you saw, or if it mattered to you.” For a moment, something in Esca’s face softens.

“Foolish,” he says. “You are mine. Why would I wish my property to be harmed, Marcus?” The sound of Marcus’s name on Esca’s lips is enough to make him gasp. It has been so very long. “You will do this for me.”

Esca graces him with one more fierce kiss, then walks away without another word. He leaves Marcus there, wanting and confused. Marcus watches as a man emerges from behind a large outcropping of rock and slings an arm around Esca’s neck. His voice is bright as he says something to Esca, perhaps congratulating him on taming his unruly slave. Perhaps he calls Marcus whatever word they use to mean cinaedus. Marcus feels his face burn. He wants to run at the man and attack him, not caring if it earns him more bruises or a cracked rib, but then Esca looks back at him and Marcus stills as if in a trance. 

Esca does not wish him to bring harm upon himself, and he swore to do as Esca commands. Perhaps Esca only cares to keep his property in fine condition, but the look Esca gives him makes Marcus think Esca might wish to see him sound for other reasons too. Regardless, Marcus will obey.


End file.
